Hijacked
by BEASBeth
Summary: Just when her day couldn't get any worse, Elsa had to get kidnapped. Now, trying to contact her sister, keep her company from going under in her absence, and escape from her (admittedly) handsome kidnapper, can Elsa keep her head? (rated for language)
1. Chapter 1

**This is something I started a couple of months ago, sorta like an R-rated action flick inside my head using these characters. I'm just gonna post the first chapter, see if anyone likes it. If enough people do (and if enough people review), then I'll think about continuing this. If not, meh. I'll play around with it for fun when I need a creative writing exercise. This idea, I admit, was inspired by SaturnXK's fanfic 'Double-Knotted Knots.'**

**As always, what I do not own:**

**Jack Frost, Elsa, and any other characters from Frozen or Rise of the Guardians.**

Chapter 1

Elsa's day was not going well. It's not easy being the ruler of a mass company that ships ice, for chrissakes. How the hell do you sell ice? You can't sell different types of it, there were never any cartoons positively describing ice, and people only want it when they want it, so there's no convincing them that they want it more often than they should. What could you do?

She had spent all morning going from meeting to meeting, trying to soothe shareholders and convince stuffy old men in too-tight pinstriped suits that they should keep their stock in the company and that Arendelle Ice was NOT going downhill. They'd just hit a bit of a rough patch lately, that was all. Thanks to the cool break they'd been having, summer was simply not hot enough for customers to want to buy 'Arendelle Icicles,' flavored fruit popsicles that kids seemed to love.

After a long tiring day at work, she'd come home to find that Anna, her younger sister and co-president, had broken: 3 priceless Ming vases, an entire set of china (she didn't even want to know how she'd managed that), one of the upstairs banisters…and her virginity. Perfect. After finding her and the offending young man together in bed, she'd first made the man sign a waiver, prohibiting him to speak, before kicking him out of her house.

That was when she and Anna had had perhaps one of the biggest fights they'd ever fought. There was screaming, there was yelling. Insults and low blows were dealt from both sides, and past mistakes and screw-ups were mentioned and used as weapons. They'd stopped for dinner, but the atmosphere had still been tense and awkward. Anna had only said three words to her; "pass the peas," and those had been growled through pursed lips.

Eventually the evening had ended, and Elsa couldn't wait to put on her pale-blue satin pajamas and crawl into bed. A good night's rest had always helped relax her and refresh her for another day. For in dreams, she could forget that she was Elsa Arendelle, CEO of Arendelle Ice, sole guardian of her younger sister Anna, and the only person left in charge of everything. She could forget that she had a list a mile long of things to do the next morning, and that the last time she'd ever taken a vacation was before her parents died. She could forget that she was the responsible one, and that she was the only one who would truly give a shit if Anna accidentally got herself killed with a drug overdose or from alcohol poisoning, or through other destructive means. She could forget that Anna was going through a destructive, angry, teenage, 'I'm technically speaking an adult now, so you can't control my life' phase. And she could forget that she was only 21.

For in her dreams, she could be whoever she wanted to be.

But compared to what happened to her next, the previous chunk of her day seemed like cake.

Elsa awoke to the sound of a gun clicking against her temple, and a low voice hissing "Don't. Move."

**AN: as for the reviews, I'm thinking at least 20 min. in number.**

**Okay, so my friends (traitors!) have also recently introduced me to the 'Amazing Spider-man' franchise, and I am now OBSESSED. It's like a friggin' virus. I haven't been this much obsessed with something since said friends introduced me to Doctor Who. Anywayz. Expect to see some Peter P./ Spider-man X Gwen S. fics in the future (yes I ship them like crazy). I'm posting this because one, I need to have more than one story on my page (repeat after me: a little variety is a good thing, breathe in, breathe out), and two, it's nice to have more than one story to think about (sorta). On the other hand, too many stories/ plotlines/ characters and I could go nuts. (It's like shoving too many colorful, interesting, flamboyant, important people into one medium-sized apartment building; with a few, it's not so bad, but if you keep adding more, and the space doesn't change…think Comic Con.) Then there's all the other things I need to think about on a daily basis. So yeah (for those of you who read/ follow my story 'The Winter Witch of the West'), I can no longer update once a week guys, I'm sorry.**

**Also, if you are an aspiring fanfictionist and need a beta, I am offering my services as editor. (If that's what a beta does, anyway. I believe it does. Feel free to correct me here.) **

**Am still obsessing over 'Winter Witch' (and have some great ideas for how 'Defying Gravity' will be mapped out), don't worry. If it makes you feel any better, last night I tested out the 'choreography' using a broom. It was really fun (and kinda exhilarating), but I accidentally woke up one of my roommates. :s whoops. So yes, I embarrassed my ass off, for **_**you**_**. The things I do for you people, honestly! ;)**

'**Til next time,**

**~Beth**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heeeeeeey, how about something different? I don't give an author's note at the beginning, I leave it all at the end, I just state that all rights belong to Disney and Dreamworks, and then you go read my new chapter? Sound good? Yay! (Ahem. Enjoy ;) )**

Chapter 2 

Elsa took in an unsteady breath, trying to calm her stampeding heart.

"Anna, if this is some sort of twisted joke to get back at me, I swear to god young lady, I am grounding you for 5 months instead," she said in a calm voice, trying to disguise the fact that she was trembling with fear. She waited for the owner of the gun to, indeed, be Anna, leaping away from her and crowing "got you!" Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.

"Sorry, 'fraid not," the voice chuckled again. Elsa's eyes adjusted in the darkness. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a dark shape beginning near her feet, traveling up the bed and ending near her right temple, where a black-clad hand currently pressed a gun. Oh god.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to control her racing pulse before asking "what do you want?"

"Why, you sweetheart." Her eyes widened and she stiffened in fear. He chuckled at her reaction.

"Not like that, sweetheart. But, if you don't mind…" her attacker trailed off and lightly ran a hand down her blanketed curves. She suppressed a whimper.

"Well then, what do you want?" her attacker leaned in closer and whispered

"This is a kidnapping, sweetheart." She froze. "Don't think about trying anything, like calling for help or pressing any panic button," he added, "I've got this nervous little pistol pressed to the side of your pretty little face, and any sudden moves could set her off. And, judging by the exact position of my girl here, that would send a bullet straight into your frontal lobe, leaving you to die a very painful death. And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Elsa didn't reply. The pistol was pressed harder against her skull until she felt a bruise begin to form.

"Would we?" he asked, repeating his question in a harder voice.

"No," she finally squeaked out. She felt the pistol ease away from her face slightly until it wasn't pressing quite so hard. She let out a sigh of relief. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Get out of bed slowly, back towards me, and face the wall." She nodded slowly and began to do as instructed. She pushed the covers off her body and she stood up, ready to walk towards the wall. Her kidnapper followed her movements, never allowing the gun to leave her cranium. She paused for a moment as a thought occurred to her.

"Wait," she said.

"What?" snarled her kidnapper, pressing the pistol hard against her head again.

"Can, Can I just change before we go?" she asked, gulping in fear.

"Why?" he sounded mad and confused, and just a bit annoyed that this was taking so long. She shivered in fear.

"Because blue satin pajamas aren't made for traveling, and I don't want to ruin them. Besides," she added as she felt the pistol press impossibility harder against her skin, "I-it's cold out there."

"So?" he snarled.

"So, I'm assuming that your boss wants me intact and in good health when you bring me to him," _I_ _hope_, she thought, "and silk pajamas not only do nothing to keep out the cold, but they are distinctive enough that when I go missing, people will notice me and be able to tell the police that they saw someone who looked like me dressed in expensive sleepwear, and you don't want a distinctive target." She closed her eyes, praying that that was enough to convince her kidnapper. He was silent was a few moments, thinking, then

"Fine," she relaxed, "but," he added, "I get to pick out what you wear, make sure that you wear something ordinary, and watch you change."

She turned around at that. "What?! Watch me change, why?" she whirled around out of habit and was met with the pistol pressing between her eyes. She nearly went cross-eyed, following the weapon's barrel until her pupils focused on the person holding it. He was about 5'10," towering over her petite 5' 6" and was dressed entirely in black, from head to toe (as far as she could tell). All she could see were his eyes, an odd silver-blue. Currently they were narrowed at her into silver slits of malice. She gulped.

"Sorry," she said. Her eyes darted away from eyes and went back to looking at the gun. "Why do you want to watch me change?"

"You were very lucky that I managed to catch myself in time," he snarled, "otherwise you wouldn't still be alive to ask that question.

"And, to answer your question, I need to watch you change to make sure that you don't try any funny business."

She scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like, pressing a secret panic button, or calling someone in a concealed cellphone, or sneaking something with a tracking device into your pocket." She just blinked at him like she expected him to start laughing and tell her he was kidding. He sighed frustratedly and said "look, I've seen it all before, okay, lady? So don't try anything!

"Turn," he said, waving the pistol at her, "and march," he hissed. She calmly walked to her walk-in closet. Still holding the gun to her temple, he leaned forward and cautiously opened the doors before shoving her in. She flicked on a light switch on the left, and he nearly tackled her before he realized what it was. He snarled and pushed her towards the racks. He sat down on a nearby chair, still keeping the pistol trained on her.

She carefully paged through the racks, trying to make it last longer and buy herself some time. Obviously she couldn't do anything to prevent getting captured, but if she could delay their leaving just long enough that when they snuck out the exterior security cameras would pick them up, then…no wait. Her kidnapper was obviously smart enough that he had already disabled the cameras, or knew where their blind spots were. Damn.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw him still watching her, and winced, turning back around. Breathe, Elsa, breathe. Don't panic. The most important thing was to stay calm. There had to be something else she could do. She was careful to keep her posture the same as her eyes widened with a new idea. She could pull a 'Hansel and Gretel;' leave a trail of 'breadcrumbs' wherever she went. It needed to be something that people wouldn't throw away in the trash, that would be recognized as an actual trail, but that didn't look obvious to her kidnapper. It also had to be common enough that she could get more if need be. But what?

"Tick-tock, princess," growled the kidnapper in the corner.

"I'm almost done," she said. She grabbed two pairs of jeans, three pairs of underwear, a bra, two shirts, a jacket, four pairs of socks, two tank tops, a pair of sneakers, a roll of deodorant, and a backpack. When she'd grabbed the backpack, he'd nearly shot her on the spot.

"What's that for?" He snarled.

"For the extra clothes."

"What d'you need those for?"

"Well, you haven't told me where I'm going, or how long the journey will be, or how hot or cold it'll be, so I'm trying to be prepared for what little you've told me," she sassed back.

"Watch it," he snarled, clicking the gun at her. She winced and began to pack. When she was done, she grabbed an outfit and started to go behind a rack to change, when he clicked his tongue at her.

"Uh-uh-uh," he scolded, "you'll stay right out here where I can see you." She flinched. He chuckled. "Turn around yourself if it makes you feel better, princess." She turned and began to awkwardly strip off the satin pajamas. He wolf-whistled as she unbuttoned the top and let it hit the floor. She winced again and hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself seem smaller as her pale cheeks were quickly flooded with bright red. She closed her eyes and hooked her thumbs in the waist before dragging the bottoms down as well. He whistled low, appreciatively.

"I must say princess, when I signed on for this job I did not expect to get a strip tease." She whirled around, embarrassed.

"Stop it!" She hissed, her arms tight at her sides, her hands in fists. His eyebrows shot up and he trained his gaze at her face.

"You might want to put some clothes on before you start protesting, princess," he said, still looking at her face as he waved the gun at her exposed chest. She squeaked and covered her breasts with her hands. "Just sayin'," he said.

She crouched down slowly, like a deer (or doe, with those big eyes) in headlights. She looked him in the eye while feeling around on the floor for her bra with her right hand, the other arm protectively crossed across her chest. When her hand finally came in contact with the lacy fabric, she snatched it up and attached it behind her, all the while watching him. His eyes never left hers once. Neither did the pistol, which was pointed at her head again. Fixing the straps on her shoulders, she grabbed the blouse off of the floor and broke eye contact to button it. Once the top was on correctly, and hanging past her hips, she relaxed and started to pull on her jeans. As she dressed, he continued to watch coolly yet, oddly, politely.

When she was finally finished and packed (after what had seemed like hours to both of them), he led her to the window. She gulped as she looked out, taking in the distance from the ledge to the ground. Suddenly having a balcony or a room on the top floor weren't such appealing ideas after all.

"A-after you?" she asked.

"Nope. Ladies first." He said. His tone seemed light, but his eyes warned her against objecting. She started to move towards to window and hesitated.

"I-I'm sorry, can't you, can't you just blindfold me or something?" He huffed impatiently.

"What's wrong now?"

"Um, I just, uh, kinda have a thing with heights." He glared at her for a few moments, before groaning dramatically.

"Ugh, fine! But this is the last time I cater to you!" He snarled. He grabbed a thick curtain pull and wrapped it once around her eyes before twisting the ends around her mouth in a make-shift gag. He placed the ransom note on the bedside table, written ahead of time of course, before turning to her. She was standing, biting her lips and rubbing at her hands nervously as she waited for him to help her down.

"Okay, princess, here's what we're gonna do," he started. "I'm gonna go first, with you right after-that way, if you slip I'll catch you. But no funny business, like messing with the rope or pushing me down, okay? You do and I'll shoot you dead before you can even cry for help." She nodded quickly.

"And just to make sure," He grabbed the other curtain pull, "I'm tying you to me." He wrapped one end around her waist securely before wrapping the other end around his own. He walked to the rope and she slowly followed.

"Now when I say go, you're gonna start climbing down. Got that?" he asked. She nodded.

He looked back at her once before swinging one leg over the railing. She was fiddling with the waistband of her jeans. He grabbed the rope, and led both of her hands to it as well, before swinging the other leg over.

Elsa tugged at the lace lining of her underwear. A tiny piece ripped off and she suppressed a smile. She let the scrap of fabric fall to the balcony's floor, her other hand still holding the rope.

"Okay, go," she heard somewhere below her. She slowly leaned forward, gripping the rope tightly, delicately slipping a leg over the balcony. She shifted her weight, then let the other leg join the first. Now she was just sitting on the railing of the balcony. She gulped, then slid off.

Her heart stopped beating for a moment as she fell through nothingness for a few seconds, to bang into the wall underneath the balcony. She bit down on her lips until she drew blood, trying not to scream. Tears squeezed past her eyelids and ran past the blindfold to dribble off her chin. Her armpits screamed in pain as her hands refused to let go or even loosen their grip on the rope. She just hung in midair, swinging lightly like a pendulum, unable to move up or down. God, she was such a wimp.

She felt the rope move a little more and she whimpered as her body swung a little farther. She felt an arm wrap around her torso and grip the rope, and a hand reach up to try to loosen her hands. Eventually the hand managed to pry her numb, cold fingers off of the rope, and she collapsed against a warm, woolen…something with shoulders. It wasn't until she was pressed against something solid that she realized she was shaking. She wrapped her arms around the shoulders and squeezed tight, still shaking. She heard the body sigh, before she felt the arms start to lower them down.

When they hit the ground, Elsa felt her legs give out from under her. She hit the cool ground with a thump, every joint turned to jelly, and folding easily under her weight. She curled into a ball and shivered violently from fear. She heard another sigh.

"Come on, princess, let's go." She felt arms scoop her up bridal style, and carry her to something. At first she just stayed limp, unable to move anything. Then she straightened. Her arms ripped the gag from her mouth before her kidnapper could move.

"Where are we?" she rasped. "Are we in the woods?"

"Not yet, and shut up," was his reply. She ripped off the blindfold and rolled out of his arms before he could catch her. She landed hard on her feet, but recovered quickly. She grabbed the curtain pull (still tied around their waists) and tugged, trying to sprint into the woods, her lips pursed tight against her teeth. She grabbed the knot around his waist and pulled, dragging him with her as she ran.

"Wait, hang on a second, stop it!" he hissed, trying to keep up. He tried to grab for his gun, but he was distracted by the trees and undergrowth to dodge. They finally burst into a clearing. She stopped.

"Is this deep enough that no one would hear me scream?" she asked, breathing hard. He grabbing his pistol out of its holster and, aiming it at her head, said "it had better be," clicking off the safety.

"Good," she said, letting go of the curtain pull before screaming as loudly as she could. He startled and dropped the gun before covering his ears. She fell to her knees, letting loose the screams that she'd wanted to do back when he'd first pressed to gun to her head, or when she was hanging in midair. All the stress and fear from the day and evening combined was released as she howled. She let staggered to a tree and gripped the bark, until it hurt to scream. When her voice finally gave, her posture slumped and she relaxed her hold on the tree. She turned around and wiped at her eyes with her wrists, panting. She looked at her kidnapper, who was staring at her as if she was crazy, with both hands covering his ears. He cautiously removed his hands from his earlobes, still staring.

"Okay," she rasped. Ouch. "That's better. Now," she swallowed, trying to moisturize her dry throat. She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying to get rid of any spare scraps of bark, "where are we going?" 

**And there you have it, the second chapter! I know that I said I wanted to wait until a substantiary amount of reviews came in, but then I received this beautifully long review (that was really very flattering) and I just had to update!**

**And yes, I'm still working/ developing The Winter Witch of the West! (I just have to work out the kinks of doing 'For the First Time in Forever' with Anna wheelchair-bound. I have a rough idea, it just needs to be articulated in words ;) )**

'**Til next time, lovelies!**

**~Beth**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jack glanced over at the sleeping woman in the passenger seat. She was curled up on the seat, away from the window, her left wrist handcuffed to the armrest. A few strands of hair had slipped out of her braid and fallen into her face. He blinked and looked back at the road. It was early morning, the first tendrils of dawn starting to creep over the horizon. There weren't many cars on the highway. Everything looked peaceful.

Their disguise was a young couple going on a vacation. They did look the part, if you ignored the fact that he was dressed all in black (he still hadn't changed back into his spare clothes) and she was blindfolded and handcuffed to the seat. As soon as he found a gas station store of something, he'd find one of those 'sleeping masks' and use that instead. So long as she didn't wake up first. That would be a problem. Then again, it wouldn't surprise him if she did, since nothing seemed to be going right on this mission.

Gah! Nothing was going according to plan. He was supposed to get her into the trunk of his car by midnight or so, then drive all day until he reached the docks. But _no_, she _had_ to change because she was the type to wear fancy impractical stuff to bed. And then she'd been afraid of heights. He had to admit, he had _not_ seen that coming. The only good deviation from the plan, so far, was her lack of bodyguards. Weren't important heirs or CEOs of companies practically surrounded by them? They must have had the day off, because he had encountered little to no resistance going in. Seriously. The only people he'd had to avoid were the cook, a stray servant or two, and of course, the girls themselves.

But that wasn't even the most surprising part of this heist. The weirdest part of the last 12 hours was the fact that she hadn't tried to run away. Not even once. Unless you counted her little sprint through the woods, which he didn't, not really. She'd purposefully dragged him behind her, and made sure he was there as she was running. She hadn't been trying to get away, just… He frowned. It was hard to explain this in his head.

It was almost four in the morning, and they still had a lot of ground to cover. He squinted against the bluish haze of light. There had to be a gas station or something somewhere. That was the downside to this job—to avoid being caught, one had to drive through the middle of nowhere. It was hard to find you or your victim, no traffic, and more likely than not, less people questioned the fact that you carried a gun. However, when you needed to find necessities, like TP or water or _sleeping masks_, that's when the barren wasteland turned against you.

He'd been a little lucky after her incident, though. When they'd reached the car, she'd climbed in, curled up, and fallen asleep almost instantly. She hadn't made a peep in the last four hours. Easiest. Victim. Ever. She'd even believed that his gun was loaded.

The gun in question was resting quietly in his holster, sleeping after her grand debut. He disliked using guns unless he could help it—and if he could, he preferred to leave them empty. In his line of work, he found it best to threaten the victim with the unloaded weapon, and leave the real weapon tucked inside his waistband. That way, if the victim got cocky or daring or just plain _stupid_ and managed to steal it from him, they would find themselves holding a useless gun, with the real weapon pressed to their head. It had happened before.

A middle-aged man, the head underling of the CEO of some company if his mind remembered correctly, had been the target. The orders were to kidnap him, rough-house a little if need be, then bring him back to headquarters, alive. The man was a mess, all sweaty and greasy and nervous; like capturing a fat hog for the slaughterhouse. Except, naturally, this pig realized he was going to the slaughterhouse, and instead of blindly following his 'leader,' fought back. Memories flashed through Jack's mind like pieces of an old-fashioned moving picture.

His back had been turned; he was grabbing the rope to bind the man's wrists and ankles. It was all going according to plan—capture the victim, let them know who was in charge, never go soft on 'em, let 'em think that if they did anything wrong that they would quickly pay for their mistake. Then, tie 'em up, get the victim in the car, then reach the drop-off point before sunrise. Easy-peasy. If only. He'd heard the click of the safety releasing, and turned around to see the guy shakingly holding his own pistol to his torso. The man was visibly trembling, looking like he would crap his pants at the slightest scare. Jack had walked forward slowly, calmly, while the man shook harder. He nearly dropped the weapon twice—the trigger kept slipping in his greasy hands. Heavy breathing was all he heard as he stepped closer, and closer, and—

Elsa snuffled and shifted slightly in her sleep, squirming on her seat until she was comfortable. Frowning, she snuggled against the arm-rest, her breathing returning to normal.

Jack snapped out of it. _Focus on your driving, idiot_. You won't be able to finish this mission if you crash your car.

Nothing was going right, that would usually be enough to set a man on edge. However, it was his victim's odd complacency that made his teeth grind. Victims always struggle, always want to flee, to cry for help; it was the fight or flight instinct that burned inside all of them, keeping humans alive. This one practically rolled over and exposed her soft white underbelly. What was her trick? What was she trying to do? Jack had no idea. He'd never even heard of a victim acting this way before. One thing for sure though; he needed to figure out her motives, and stop her before she could see them through. Until then, he'd act as if he suspected nothing, play along with her 'act.'

He needed this job to go well; it would be the last one he needed to fully push himself to the top. He couldn't allow for any more…abnormalities from the plan. They just needed to get to the docks, then to the base, without raising suspicion or getting caught. Then, he would never have to see Ms. Elsa Drotning-Snar ever again. She would be someone else's problem. Namely, his boss's. Who, come to think of it, would be very displeased if he learned how long it had taken to get her out of the house.

He narrowed his eyes. At this point, he could afford to drive a little faster. Fuck, there had to be a gas-station, or a little convenience store—he knew he was in fucking Indiana, not a desert, there had to be rest stops for civilization somewhere!

A Toyota cut him off as it switched lanes ahead of him. He slammed on his brakes and gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to lay on his horn, or at least flip him off. Under normal circumstances, he would, just not when there was a sleeping victim handcuffed in his car. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. What was wrong with him this morning? He was fine under pressure, yet for the last few hours he'd been on edge. Maybe it was because so much was riding on this job. Yeah, that was it. He griped the wheel, eyes squinting at the signs overhead.

_Okay, focus. Now, if I was a gas-station, where would I hide…_

**Ta-da! I'm not dead! If it helps, the chapter after this one should be ready soon.**

**However.**

**I have a little problem.**

**After the chapter after this one, I've hit a wall. I know how the story will end, and I have a couple scenes in mind in the middle, but as for what happened directly after chapter 4, I'm at a loss.**

**If you can think of any ideas of what could happen, throw 'em out! Get creative!**

**And, of course, much thanks to Falcon88 for the input/ discussion. Our talks really helped flesh out this chapter more.**

**So, some stuff from Jack's POV. Hope it was interesting (and not too boring) for ya. I made a few changes, added in some stuff, and hopefully made it better. Next chapter is more interesting, I promise! This chap is just filler, with some insight to what's going on from Jack's end. Thanks for all the reviews! They're what inspire me to keep going ;) seriously, the last 6 reviews I got for chapter 2 made my day(s) )!**

'**Til the next chap,**

**~Beth**


	4. An apology and an explanation

To my dear readers (of both The Winter Witch of the West and Hijacked):

Sorry! Not a new chapter, I'm afraid.

First and foremost, I should have written and posted this message three months ago. For my cowardice and denial, am I truly sorry, for the consequences of it left all of you in the lurch. You see, the reasons I did not write this sooner was because I was too ashamed to tell you that I had lost my inspiration, too sad to let you all down, and in denial about losing said inspiration. I had false hope that any day now my muse would come back and I could resume updating my stories, and be the fanfictionist that you follow-d and favorite-d. Alas, my muse (the fickle, shy, traitorous, finicky thing) has decided to go on an extended vacation (what was simply a vacation a couple months ago has turned into an extended vacation). The smug thing is probably off having adventures on Neverland while I bang my head against my keyboard, trying to make things work.

It also doesn't help that I started college this year. That means classes, more essays and more things to juggle at a different rhythm than I'm used to. I've mostly adapted, but there are still some kinks to work out (mainly how to drag myself away from the library/ how to take less than two hours at the library).

Please understand that this message is not to inform you that I am giving up on these stories (I refuse to give up on either), merely that I am giving you permission to ignore me and my works for a while.

I know full well the frustration you feel when a certain story suddenly stops updating, especially when it is a story that you find particularly exciting. I also know the intense annoyance that blossoms when months go by and not even an 'on hiatus' note has been posted.

I assure you, my fanfictions and my plans for them are never far from my mind.

This is NOT a note saying 'sorry, I'm lost my inspiration for this story so I'm going to cut it loose, so sorry to disappoint you, but my heart is just not in it anymore.' This is simply an apology and a notice rolled into one.

I am trying to change certain things about my current lifestyle to make my creativity flow better. So far more sleep and less internet time seem to be working nicely (sorry Falcon88! We'll need to cut back on our chat time).

Again, I am so sorry that I have let you all down.

Love,

~Beth


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